User blog comment:Bartholomew Billberry Bowstring/Mossflower Country & Beyond/@comment-25220117-20121101173924

''The vessel's prow nosed through the warm, gentle waters of the Western Sea, the winds blowing against teh sails slowly receding, the cries of gulls screeching through the skies adding to the atmosphere. A ferret dressed in tattered finery leaned against the sun-bleached wood of the cabin wall, watching the sails slowly go taut as the wind disappeared altogether, leaving the ship drifting upon the tide, helpless. Baal smoothed the scraggly tuft of fur upon his chin, watching silently as the crew all at once noticed the situation. They stood gathered, knowing it useless to try any attempt to continue sailing, as a lean crewrat known as Scurlo scurried up the rigging, checking the sail. "Aye, ain't no wind left, mates! We needs beasts out `ere rowin'!" ''Carvig, a hulking weasel dressed in a turban and sash seemed to have waiting for that moment. Striding forward, he rapped his knuckles against the door leading to the Captain's room beyond'' "We got a sitwayshun, serr!"